Overenergized
by Death Phoenix
Summary: Now Nightstrike had seen some very surprising things in his long life but the scene before him really took the oil cake. Set after HF. G1verse.


Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or anything associated with Transformers. I do own Nightstrike.

xxxxx

Now Nightstrike had seen some very surprising sights in his long life but the scene before him really took the oil-cake.

He had just returned from his last mission which had been a visit to the largest hospital in Portland to further good relations with the humans. Upon returning earlier than expected, he just couldn't resist speeding to feel the wind whip around his form, he had decided to go to the rec-room for some energon. And upon reflection and careful observation he realized what bad decision that was, especially with the scene before him playing out.

Make no mistake it was hilarious, or it would be under normal circumstances, but he had the feeling it would be him that would have to deal with it. And he surmized this because he could feel Jazz getting bored out of his processors at the officers meeting, which included _all_ of the officers besides himself due to circumstances such as secrecy and was going on right this astro-second. Nightstrike could already feel his processors aching.

It didn't help matters that he had a more than fairly good guess as to why he was seeing what he was seeing. The only thing that made him feel better about the situation was that none of his lovers were in the rec-room. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were in the common room in the trine's part of the Ark playing video games if his sensors informing him correctly. Bluestreak was out on a new dual aerial/ground patrol with Fireflight.

Letting out a small amount of air from his vents in an imitation of a human sigh Nightstrike decided to interrupt the officers meeting. There were some days where he wished he had never agreed to his lovers's request to use his optics more often. If he hadn't actually seen this he could have gotten away claiming he hadn't noticed anything and not had to deal with it.

xxxxx

Jazz almost let the relief he was feeling show on his face plates when Nightstrike commed the Conference Room thus interrupting said meeting and Ironhide who had been speaking. Though he really wasn't sure he wanted the interruption when his trine-mate let him see what he was seeing in the rec-room.

_/I apologize for interrupting but there is a situation that needs immediate clarification and handling. Ratchet did you happen to leave out the crate I stored in your office?/_

The only reason no one got mad at Nightstrike for asking that question was because the visor-wearing medic wouldn't have asked if it hadn't been really important.

_/Yes I did. I had to take it out of my office to get something from behind where it was placed. I was going to put it back but I was in a hurry to get to the meeting and left it in the supply room. Why?/_

There was a resigned silence on the other end of the comm-link for a moment.

_/Well, you and Wheeljack and probably Red Alert and Prowl need to get down to the rec-room. First Aid isn't going to be much help in this situation./_

_/Why do we need to get down to the rec-room Nightstrike? Did some glitching slaggers get into a fight and start a brawl?/_ The anger in the CMO's voice was rising as was his infamous temper.

_/No, but there will be several in need of medical attention before this is over I'm afraid. You see this pertains to the crate I stored in your office. The crate had medicinal high-grade within it in the form of energon goodies. It was one of my sucessful experiments that I did not anyone getting a hold of just yet./_

Regular high-grade could make a mech overenergized very quickly if they were light-weights, high-grade made by the Twins or by Nightstrike would knock you on your aft the first sip if you couldn't handle it, but medicinal high-grade would have you either so hyper it looked like you were on stimulants or so tired you couldn't stay online to save your spark depending the condition you were in when you consumed it.

_/What, so you're saying that someone, or several someones, went into the med-bay, took the energon goodies made of medicinal high-grade, and got overenergized off them and is now wreaking havoc in the rec-room? Is that what you're telling me Nightstrike?/_

All the officers witnessing Ratchet's temper rearing its ugly head and hearing Nightstrike's report were already envisioning the chaos to happen and already happening.

_/There is a reason I'm requesting that you and Wheeljack in particular be the ones to come Ratchet. For you see it wasn't just anyone who consumed the energon goodies. It was the Dinobots./_

The last sentence rang throughout the Conference Room like a death knell. And it just might have been.

The very thought of what the Dinobots would do overenergized was a scary one. And evidently it was a reality.

And it didn't take a genius to figure out from the disbelieving look Jazz sported that Nightstrike was letting the saboteur see through his optics. It must of been pretty shocking for Jazz to look that way.

Nightstrike continued as if he hadn't just dropped an unwanted bomb on them. _/Swoop told First Aid and myself before I left this morning that Snarl hadn't been in a good mood the last few days and that he was worried. We told him he could have one of the containers of mid-grade energon goodies that we keep in the supply room to help cheer Snarl up since he was so worried. And you know Swoop would think nothing of sharing with the rest of the Dinobots as well if they were reacting to Snarl's bad mood. It seems Swoop took the wrong container of energon goodies./_

More than one officer in the room wanted to ask how Swoop could tell Snarl was in bad mood when said Dinobot barely spoke and seemed to be in a perpetual bad mood.

_/What are they doing exactly in the rec-room Nightstrike?/_ Optimus ventured to ask.

_/Slag is currnetly challenging everyone in the rec-room to a fight. Grimlock has all the Minibots present running for their lives and is traumatizing them as he practices what seems to be his stalking skills. Swoop is dive bombing everyone who moves or catches his attention and currently has Huffer in his claws as he hovers near the ceiling. Sludge just wants a hug and Snarl has cornered Smokescreen and is telling him lame jokes. I would like some assistance. Preferably now before I call the Twins to help me deal with this!/_

If they didn't know any better they would say Nightstrike was getting agitated. Of course if they had been in the medic's position they would understand.

_/Why would you need to comm the Twins for assistance?/_ Optimus was dreading the answer because generally the Dinobots listened to Nightstrike.

_/I told you that Sludge wanted a hug did I not? Who do you think he is hugging?/_

The sarcastic scorn in Nightstrike's reply before he closed the comm-link told Jazz that his trine-mate was getting annoyed. But it probably wasn't at Sludge. He thought for a moment as he pondered why Nightstrike hadn't called his twin crimson and golden lovers before when the reason struck him. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were possessive, especially Sunstreaker, at the best of times. Seeing Nightstrike being held by Sludge, even an overenergized Sludge, would not go down well. And both Twins had proved that they had no qualms about fighting with the Dinobots in spite of their size.

The Twins seeing Nightstrike's predicament would have the day culminating in a brawl of enormous proportions with Prowl, Red Alert, Ratchet, and Nightstrike all in foul moods.

Jazz really, really didn't want to see that happen. And apparently he wasn't the only one because the Conference Room emptied out pretty fast in the hurry to stop the situation from becoming an ordeal of epic proportions.

xxxxx

Nightstrike could feel his temper rising even as he tried to push it down. It wasn't that he was overly upset with Sludge or any of the Dinobots for that matter. Swoop wouldn't have known that the energon goodies he had taken were of the high-grade variety because frankly everyone had gone out of their way not to let any of the Dinobots get their claws on some. Though it was fairly amusing that the one who ended up letting them get their claws on some was the Creator who was most adamant about them not having any. Poor Ratchet and poor anyone who runs afoul of the CMO right now when he is sure to be in a terror-inducing temper.

The visored medic tried to keep himself calm. He really didn't like others touching him. There were in fact very few who he gave the right to touch him and whose touch he welcomed. Nightstrike rather thought his wariness stemmed from his unofficial official profession and growing up in the Rings of Kaon as a Kaonexi. Kaonexi was the title earned and given to those who battled in the Arenas, or the Pits as they were called by those who did battle.

While it was true he could escape the generally amiable Dinobot's hug he would have to hurt him to do so. And he really didn't want to do that, not when Sludge was inebriated and wouldn't understand. Because really it was one thing to cause pain of some sort when teaching them to fight and sparring with them but something completely different when in a situation like this.

It was things like this happening that reminded Nightstrike of just how young all of the Dinobots were, mentally and in age. They might have been onlined as fully operational mechs but they still had a lot of life to live and things to experience. Which is probably how he had been roped into giving all of Ratchet and Wheeljack's creations the Cybertronian version of 'The Talk.' He was going to get them, Optimus, and Jazz back for that. Pity that only Jazz was expecting retaliation and that they had seemingly forgotten just who he was lovers with along with exactly what he did.

Of course Jazz might like the retaliation he had in mind. He never could stay angry or upset with his trine-mate, either of them actually.

But he did content himself with the amusing scene before him. Watching Grimlock chase the screaming and cursing Minibots around the rec-room was the height of entertainment. So was seeing Huffer beg the room at large to be let down and whine about not being meant to fly. Smokescreen's petrified look of horror as he was held by Snarl as the normally surly Dinobot told him bad jokes was something worth seeing as well. And of course one can't forget the the sight of Tracks trying to dissuade Slag from fighting him, or at least trying get him to choose a different target.

And at least Nightstrike was being provided with lots of blackmail material. His own situation really couldn't be used for blackmail material because he frankly didn't give a slag who saw him in this position. Well, except for the Twins. He really didn't want to deal with what would come of them seeing him like this.

Nightstrike knew he didn't want to deal with the Twins seeing him like this for one simple reason. After it became obvious that Prowl and Jazz had gotten together the other mechs on the Ark took that to mean Nightstrike was availiable. Now technically that would be true except for two things: he was only really interested in being lovers with three specific mechs and those three mechs weren't going to let anyone touch him. This was proved true when soon after Nightstrike had gotten together with the Twins and Blue an unlucky mech by the name of Smokescreen decided to flirt with the new medic. That didn't go over well with his trio of lovers or Jazz.

All sane mechs on board were warned off when Nightstrike was pulled back and firmly placed snugly between the Twins on a couch in the rec0room with Bluestreak seated comfortably in his lap. The warning glint in the Twins's optics, the intimidating smirks they wore, the feral aura of barely contained violence, and the possessive hold they had on the gunner and the medic said clearer than words that Bluestreak and Nightstrike were off limits. And that untold agony, or worse, would ensue if any thought otherwise.

But any hesitation Nightstrike had about dealing with the over-energized Dinobots died a swift death the astro-second Bluestreak and Fireflight walked into the rec-room. He loved Bluestreak, even if he had not said the words to the sniper or the Twins, and he was fond of Fireflight. He had a feeling he would be seeing a lot of the Aerialbot in the future and he trusted his instincts and Gifts. And there was no way he was letting either of the two good-natured Autobots get hurt accidently by inebriated Dinobots or the mechs said inebriated Dinobots were tormenting.

With how sweet-natured Bluestreak was it sometimes made him wonder how the sniper could happily be lovers with himself or Sunstreaker. He and the golden warrior were well aware of how stoic and cold they came off as to other Autobots. Truthfully both of them could see Bluestreak being attracted to Sideswipe but not themselves. Neither of them took Bluestreak or Sideswipe's feelings for them for granted. Or the feelings they held for each other.

xxxxx

"Everbody freeze!" Nightstrike's authoritive voice rang out through the air of the rec-room. Not surprisingly everyone who heard him speaking followed that order, even those in other parts of the Ark. Sludge even let go and dropped Nightstrike back on his feet.

Seeing that at least those he wanted to listen had followed his order Nightstrike quickly scanned the room. At the rec-room entrance Bluestreak, who was standing beside a non-plused Fireflight, was obviously telling the Twins what was happening in the rec-room. The medic knew this because he could now sense Sunstreaker and Sideswipe running from their section of the ship, which was on Deck Four, a virtually unused deck except for their living quarters. Though Jazz and himself had been toying with the idea of inviting Inferno and Red Alert to move to quarters on Deck Four in a different section when the two trine-mates finally got them together.

"Swoop put Huffer down this instant. Grimlock leave th' Minibots alone you 'ave terrified them enough. Snarl we need our diversionary tactician ta be sane an' as mentally unscarred as possible so let him go. Slag trust me when I say Tracks ain't worth th' effort ta fight so desist. All Dinobots come here now. Ya are all goin' back ta your quarters ta sleep it off. Th' hangover ya will all be sufferin' from tomorrow should be lesson enough for ya all." The medic's tone brooked no argument.

Nightstrike was beginning to escort the now docile, but still over-energized, Dinobots to their quarters when the officers and the Twins arrived. But the medic really didn't know what to make of the considering look in Optimus Prime's optics. The Commander of the Autobots was obviously up to something but Nightstrike couldn't for the life of him think of what. He only knew it involved him even if he wasn't sure what it was.

So Nightstrike wasn't the only one stunned when Optimus Prime offered Nightstrike what he did. Apparently Nightstrike's voice had carried fairly far throughout the Ark and the ease with which the medic had broken up the chaos happening in the rec-room had sparked an idea in their Leader's processors.

"Nightstrike how would feel about being our Disciplinary Officer?" There was an almost wicked glint in the Prime's optics. Nightstrike really couldn't refuse because he wasn't officially an officer in the optics of the public and thus was obligated to take the promotion and additional duties as his commanding officer ordered.

The medic was tempted to take one of his medical tools from subspace and throw it at Optimus's cranial unit but refrained. Though he almost did take a tool out of subspace to nail his silently laughing trine-mate in the cranilal unit. A quick mental jab put an end to that.

He knew he was trapped and that their Leader had been wanting someone suitable for that particular position for vorns. On one hand it meant more work for him to do, though with the numerous data cables he possessed, the sheer amount of data he was capable of processing, and his multi-tasking skills it was possible. On the other hand it meant that it was very unlikely, as in zero possibilty, that he would ever be transferred out of the Prime's unit, not that that would make him unhappy. Being able to stay with his lovers, his trine-mate, and his second family permanently would be a blessing. But there was at least one snag.

The poleaxed looks on several face plates did amuse him though.

"On th' condition tha' I 'ave th' right ta delegate when I see fit."

Optimus nodded, happy to finally have a Disciplinary Oficer, one fully capable of doing their job. He had seen how well Nightstrike handled some of his more unruly Autobots. And anyone who can get the Dinobots to listen and follow orders just had to be the Disciplinary Officer. He did feel a little bad about dropping more responsiblities and duties on Nightstrike but the medic was rather like Red Alert and Prowl in his ability to get others to listen. It helped that Optimus knew Nightstrike was more than able to break up fights and had accepted the 'promotion.' And he understood the condition Nightstrike had made.

After all, who wants to be in charge of discplining their lovers, especially when two of said lovers had a tendency to wreak utter havoc as a hobby. Well, one of them did and generally dragged his twin with him as well as his more sweet-natured lover.

xxxxx

Nightstrike honestly expected to be questioned when he returned to the quarters he shared with his lovers the next morning. They had seemed a litle surprised at his acceptance of the new job he had been given, especially when they knew of his other duties. It might help though that all three of his lovers were on the Special Ops unit that Jazz commanded and they understood the need for secrecy.

Very few would expect Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to be Special Ops when they usually were portrayed to the public as frontline warriors, which they were. The Twins were very good at infiltration, fair hands at sabotage, and no strangers to assassination. Their pranks, which often involved circumventing Red Alert's security system, were proof of that. Bluestreak for all his gentleness outside of battle was a seasoned veteran when fighting or on a mission. He might be officially listed as a gunner like the Twins are officially listed as frontline warriors but he was an expert and experienced sniper.

Realizing his lovers understood made Nightstrike release the tension he hadn't known he had possessed. It was nice having lovers that understood at least a small amount of what he went through.

So instead of the questioning he had thought he would get he got pulled into the berth by three eager pairs of hands and shown how much they had missed him the night before.

They were insatiable.

xxxxx

Reading a data-pad Nightstrike idly listened to the conversation revolving around his crimson and golden lovers's Jet Judo. The Coneheads and Seekers had made wonderful targets for practice in the last battle.

Not really paying attention to the information before him or the conversation Nightstrike thought back to the Dinobots experiencing their first hangovers. It had been a sight to see, even if the smell of purged energon as well as the sound of those purging energon was less than pleasant. He and Ratchet had even gone easy on them and only lectured a little because really, they had never seen high-grade before much less consumed any. That and it hadn't exactly been their fault.

Nightstrike had made it very clear to the other Dinobots that it hadn't been anyone's fault much less Swoop's and that as the Disciplinary Officer they _would_ be punished if they hurt Swoop over the accident. And he promised them regular mid-grade energon goodies and oil cake to make up for their hang-overs. The medic had definitely felt the pout coming from Jazz's end of their bond when he promised them that. It occurred to the new Disciplinary Officer that he had not made any of those treats or any of his specially brewed high-grade for Jazz, his lovers, or his friends. This necessitated Nightstrike having to promise Jazz that he would indeed make some for him as well.

Nightstrike just knew if he didn't his sneaky trine-mate would let the knowledge of his cooking skills slip to his lovers as well as his promise to the Dinobots. He really didn't need his lovers upset or put out with him right now. Really in his own opinion the only reason he had good cooking skills was because he had been practically forced to have them. Who would have properly fed them when they were younglings if Nightstrike hadn't picked that useful skill up? Sandstorm had lit the oil cake he tried to make on fire some how the first time he tried. He tried again. Jazz wasn't much better so it had been a matter of survival really.

The visored medic was taken from his musings when the conversation turned to the topic of Skywarp's teleportation. The very mention of it had Nightstrike standing up, leaving, and heading for his lab in a hurry. He had an idea!

And he paid no attention to the surprise his actions had caused.

xxxxx

"I wouldn't worry 'bout it too much ya four. 'Strike just had one of his flashes of inspiration an' is headin' ta th' lab ta begin work on it. Must be somethin' though because he just commed Perceptor an' Wheeljack an' all three of 'em are bubblin' wit' enthusiasm. Ya aren't goin' ta see any of 'em for a while I think." Trust Jazz to explain when Nightstrike has those rare moments of forgetting the world exists. He doesn't mind explaining those. It's a quirk he finds endearing about his trine-mate after all. And it makes dragging his trine-mate out of his lab all the more fun when said trine-mate has been ignoring his desires for a long amount of time.

xxxxx

More than one set of optics widened when Wheeljack, Perceptor, and Nightstrike presented thier new invention and explained its usefulness. And it was extremely useful and valuable to the Autobots.

"Its called a Warp Gate."

This new invention would open up a world of possibilities, among other things. They just didn't know it yet.


End file.
